


Memoirs of a Horcrux

by MORCHI



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MORCHI/pseuds/MORCHI
Summary: One can never be too careful, but two years on a run have made it's toll and a little slip is more than one might thought. Harry is captured by the Dark Lord, but consequences just might be worse than death alone. After all, Voldemort knows he is a horcrux and doesn't plan to let him die anytime soon..





	Memoirs of a Horcrux

Harry shivered and tried to burrow deeper into his thin jacket that did little to nothing against the perpetual coldness of the dungeon cells. It felt like eternity has passed since he was here, though it could be that only a day has passed to a couple of them. On an odd note he would fell in a slumber from which he was easily roused from and unfortunately, there wasn't any natural light to help differentiate the time. Only a lone torch sat on a far away wall across his cell burning relentlessly. The hunger didn't help either for he felt half hungry for years now. He has gotten used to. He had to, along with everyone else. What used to cause a disruption and irritation at the beginning between him and Ron now was second nature. Ron and Hermione. At least they were safe. As safe one could be this days. Meaning safe today meant being out of the clutches of Death Eathers. Which he wasn't anymore. It was only him who got captured. In a dumb way, as well. He had sneaked into town disguised under polyjuice for more ingredients and supplies, stealing more than paying. Times were rough and they couldn't afford being gallant about it. As he was leaving, on a small, windy path, he got stupified and the rest was history. He never found out was it for his carelessness in dwelling with sticky fingers or did the potion wear off earlier then anticipated but it left him in a dark cell with a sense of dread and failure.  
He was dozing again when a large clank of iron doors disturbed him, prompting him to raise to his feet, his muscles tensing and his heart skipping in a faster beat. Several steps echoed around as they neared him and he waited until a pale face came into the light, making him shudder. Before him stood a pale face of Draco Malfoy, looking like death in black. 

 

Harry hardly remembered much if asked later about it. At the time he knew he was taken to the Dark Lord and that knowledge made everything clench inside him in a flight or fight mode. The golden circles of light bound his hands and his magic beneath his skin. He was too exhausted from a long run, from the cold and canned supplies and the constant worry which left his magic weak and sluggish to respond against such bonds. Had he been in better shape he knew, with some resentment, that he would be able to blast the bonds and chance an escape. At the moment though a walk without collapsing was an effort. He was dizzy and alert and he knew that it has been a few days in that cell now. 

His heart started beating fast though when he spotted a tall, regal figure in a armchair before a large fireplace which seemed to Harry that it was big enough to roast an ox. 

"Harry Potter. At last.", a voice said and it surprised him. Last time he heard it it was high pitched, ethereal - one that you didn't forget. Now it was just as memorable but deeper, so much deeper. It was closer to the voice he vaguely remembered in the Chamber of Secrets. The figure before him was dressed in long dark brown robes, embedded with gold. There was surprisingly a white mask on the figure's face which left Harry staring. It was pure white with a pearly shine and encrusted with emeralds that glittered constantly at the light of cracking fire. He was pushed to his knees which hit the floor painfully, making him black out for a moment. The pain seared through his whole body as he titled his head to look at the figure before him. 

The figure rose to a great height and approached them. Harry looked on as the figure, undoubtedly Voldemort, but one so different, gave his hand out, waiting for Draco Malfoy who came bowing and gave his arm out to spidery fingers to grasp. And than came the summoning of members of Death Eathers as the tip of the wand was pressed to the Dark Mark. In that moment, Harry knew without a doubt that he was going to die. He closed his eyes and brought forth to his mind the faces of his friends, the Weasley family, Sirius, Remus and everyone else he loved and held dear. He didn't want to die looking at the dark figures that reminded him of pain and suffering. He wanted to die with his friends and family, smiling and letting him know of the warmth that love could give. 

He ignored the sounds of arrival, ignored the gathering of dark magic, stifling and potent, ignored the brush against his knees which when he peeked from behind his lids showed alabaster skin of Nagini as she lazily moved around him, her long body a terrifying sight before reaching her master. He focused back on Ginny's wicked humor and Hermione's bright eyes and Ron's goofy grin, Molly's warm hugs and Arthur's solid pats. Sirius broken, but warm face and the feeling of flight in the air, the freedom it brought him as he became unbound from earth and all the duties it carries and of a moment where he looked on down and saw his friends smiles greeting him back. That's how he wanted to die and he was ready for it, ignoring all so much that he almost missed the following words.

"I am not going to kill Harry Potter"

He snapped his head up, bewildered at the statement. He wondered wildly if the figure isn't the Dark Lord at all, but one that is tricking everyone. His mind produced wild images of Alastor Moody polyjuiced or Kingsley or someone else who was on his side and has somehow managed to do the unimaginable.

"You see, my friends, I found out something remarkable, something profound. I cannot kill Harry Potter. He is untouchable. And he will remain as he is."

There was a wave of murmurs across the living room. 

"But there will be changes. Great changes and today is the day that will be remembered as the day that the Light fell. The day of victory, my friends, has dawned. And it is today that all we wished for will come true."

There were happy cheers and few shoots of sparks from wands, but Harry could taste the uncertainty in the air from from his position on the floor. He took to staring at Nagini's large form as it lazily laid before him, listening to her master. 

"It has long been awaited. And it is possible now. Harry Potter as you all know and hold in your memories dies today. From now on he is ours to keep, yours to be protected. But make no mistake. He is confused still, and has to be taught a great deal.", at that a cloak of robes appeared in his vision and Harry craned his head as far as it could go to at the white mask above him. Behind them pierced him bright, red eyes. 

"Until he learns", the figure repeats. And a wand was raised at him. A flash of light - green - and he slept. 

 

The first sensations he discerned was that of a far away sound of birds chirping. The second was the weighty, sleepy feeling of deep and well rest, one that leaves you in a perfect state between being awake and asleep which makes you wish you could stay in it forever. Alas, bit by bit, the wakefulness came and Harry blinked his eyes open. Slowly he took in his surroundings - the lavish room was filled with a large bed framed of polished wood accompanied with two night tables besides each side of the bed on which rested fairies lamps which upon closer inspection were now fast asleep in their flowerly like shaped orbs. The chirping sound came through an open balcony door which expanded in the sets of windows half covered by heavy baroque curtains. The room had tables and chairs, chests and knick knacks and even a bookshelf. It was one of the most luxurious room Harry has ever been in, let alone slept in. And he was becoming more and more alarmed by it. 

He rose from his bed while carefully looking for any presence in the room. He just about concluded he was alone when a loud "POP!" sounded in the room, making him jump two feet in the air, scrambling for a wand that wasn't there as he stared at the source of the disruption - a house elf holding a large, silver tray filled with food. 

"Master said Master Potter has to eat once he awaken. Pittyx brought Mister Potter food. Pittyx asks that Mister Potter eats it all", and with that said, he settled the tray on a table near by and disappeared with another pop before a whole "Wait!" managed to wretch itself fromHarry's throat. 

He was left once again alone. Still shaking from a fright and composing himself, he quickly got to his feet. He was dressed in silk robes reaching his ankles and fancy, silk socks. He found it disturbing before pushing through the open balcony doors, carefully looking around. Once he found it was only him and a vast garden stretching into a meadow and then the trees he took to formulating a plan of the escape. The drop wasn't too high and Harry didn't waste time in pulling down the curtains gracing the window. Now that he was well rested and unbounded, his magic responded quickly to his wished. 

As he was finising the knots in place, a voice sounded: "Don't do it. It's a stupid plan!"

Harry froze for a long moment before looking around wildly for an intruder. The room stood empty and silent, save for the chirping of the birds and outdoors sounds. He waslked about, searching the room nevertheless and when the silence continued, he warily, but quickly pushed the makeshift rope down the terrace wall.  
If he was stronger or had his wand with him he would levitate himself to the ground but as such he was just enough aware that that could end up being a foolish idea. Instead, he grabbed the rope and dangling in a mess of silk and rope got himself down as quickly as he could. And than he ran.

He ran like hell. He was quick too, his body all muscles and well practiced in the art of mad escapes as he dashed to the nearest cloak of the forest in the distance. He had mad luck too, for while he expected any second for the mad cackling of Bellatrix or any other Death Eather to close up to him, he managed to reach the line of the forest unseen and unchased. He didn't stop, continuing onwards, throwing out his magic out as a second sense so that he could identify when the Anti-Apparation Ward ends. It was only that which kept him his head whole and well when an arrow made a deadly line at him. He threw himself to the ground at last minute before looking up. 

*Idiot!*, a voice hissed at him and he would look around wildly for its owner had it not been for a centure pulling up close, a bow in his hands and a dangerous look in his eyes. 

"You are not to be here. This is a forest of Dark Lord", said the centur and loaded another arrow. Harry scrambled to his feet. 

"Wait, wait! I am a friend of Firenzio, a friend of centures! I seek shelter!", he yelled holding his hands up in a disarming manner. The centure glared at him, his tail flickering in irritation. 

"This woods aren't ours alone. Dark Lord now commandes them. Begon, friends of centure, or you will be no more!", was the reply.

"Please!", another arrow sizzled past his ear and he scrambled back. "At least point me to the point where I can apparate."

"It is far, little Harry Potter. Far enough that you won't make it."

"I will, I will! Show me in what direction and I will be gone."

The centure remained silent for a moment longer while Harry held his breath before pointing behind Harry. 

"Go until you see a river. Cross and go left with the river. You will reach an old oak woth roots so large and out of the earth that animals seek shelter. From that point you go right and straight. There you can apparate."

"Thank you", Harry breathed out. "I will be forever in your debt."

The centur snorted and with a flick of his tail dashed into the woods. Harry briefly wondered how it would be easier if he too had four legs.  
He didn't waste time, running in the direction pointed. He ran and ran, stopping to catch his breath for a moment or two before running again. When his stomach gave a violant pain he slowed down a bit, his body starting to protest as the time passed. He was sweaty, dirty and utterly exhausted by the time he reached the river. His head and heart pounded, his muscles screamed in protest and his jaw ached. Everything hurt from exertion. He barely calculated the best route before he was walking through the small river and that's when trouble reeled it's head. 

Something wrapped around his ankle and dragged him under the surface. He kicked with his feet and arms which gave no desirable result. As what little breath he had ran out quickly, he concentrated with all his might and a fire light formed in his hand. He pointed it to the slimy thing dragging him, siring his feet as well in a process and for a brief moment he saw a terrifying mesh of human face and fish, with large mouth splitting it's head almost in half and filled with long claw like teeth. The sight of it made him loose all his breath and luckily it loosened it's grip enough for him to reach the surface, gasping for breath. He started swimming as hard as he could. He gathered magic a few more times, sending light balls in random directions behind him to discourage the creator as he struggled to reach the shore in spite of the tide dragging him around. With a last push of magic he sent himself propelling in a wide arch to the shore and collapsed on it with a painful hit to his side. For a moment all he could do was lay there, panting in the grass. He could feel himself being utterly exahusted and he wanted to cry bitter tears at the fact of it. He feared, he feared so much - the strange thing in the water, the recapture, the lack of strenght he had. He feared it all. 

He caught his breath at last and sluggishly dragged himself up against the nearby tree. It is there where Death Eathers found him, arriving on brooms and drying him with spells. They casted a spell forming a bubble around him which lifted him up as they rose above the treeline. He turned to look behind him as they rose above the forest. In the light of the sunset he could see the shimmering light of the Anti-Apparation Wards and he knew the centure was right. He would have never made it, as it was still miles away. He closed his eyes in resign before opening them up front. The Death Eathers kept their comments to themselves, a feet of wonder in itself  which faded to the sight of where he was dragged back to. While before he barely paid attention to anything, now he could see the vast scale of the castle before him. Towers and towers of white marble gleamed as the last strokes of light and spreading garden around it decorated it in its magnificent. 

Harry wondered what on Earth he got himself into really.


End file.
